


First Time He Kissed A Boy

by chewysugar



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Boners, Boys Kissing, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Implied Masturbation, Kissing, M/M, Post-Episode: s02e14, Public Display of Affection, bicurious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 18:30:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16000889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chewysugar/pseuds/chewysugar
Summary: After the hot tub party, Jughead points out something that needs to be rectified. Archie happily obliges.





	First Time He Kissed A Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This has a T rating despite references to boners and masturbation. I think it’s the same thing you’d find in YA fiction...I’d know that for sure I ever read a YA book.

Along with eating, thinking was one of Jughead’s favourite hobbies. He could be counted on to get lost in thought, oftentimes over analyzing things to the point where he’d forget what it was that was in front of him. Archie, having been his best friend for years, knew the telltale signs: the far-off gaze, the slight frown; and the crease between his eyebrows. The most telling thing of all, which proved to be the most disturbing, was that Jughead’s appetite all but vanished. 

Now, it was a sad truth that the food at Riverdale High’s cafeteria varied in quality from day to day. The culinary arts students responsible for meal prep made delicious breakfasts and lunches, but the taste depended entirely on experience. On this particular morning, the freshman class had made a platter of rock hard French toast, charcoal burnt hash browns, and weak coffee. It made perfect sense that Jughead’s usual enthusiasm for all things food didn’t quite reach its usual nadir. But that theory had one slight catch: quality never bothered Jughead when it came to food.

Seated at the table next to him, Archie watched his best friend with some concern. If only he had Betty or Veronica to confer with. But the girls had had an early morning practice for cheerleading, and wouldn’t be at the cafeteria until some time later.

“Jug?” Archie spoke quietly, not wanting to startle his best friend out of whatever reverie he’d lost himself in. The only sign that his word had been heard was a brief grunt from the other.

Archie narrowed his eyes, and spoke a little louder. “Hey, Jughead.” Still, not so much as a blink to show that the bearer of that name had been aware of it being spoken at all.

There were times when Archie liked a good laugh. This was not one of those times. True, he and Jughead shared a bond of brotherhood that defied the more superficial relationships with young men in Archie’s life. But he couldn’t abide such a blatant display of immaturity.

“Forsythe,” Archie said sternly. It tended to work failing all other avenues. Jughead not only loathed his given name due to the association with his own father, but he also found it appalling and embarrassing; for who in their right mind named their child “Forsythe” and expected him to go through school not being bullied?

Fortunately it did the trick. Jughead grimaced as if Archie had thrown a live hornet under his nose.

“Thanks for that,” he said. “Next time give me a paper cut between my fingers and rub salt on the wound.”

“Princess Bride references won’t save you,” Archie replied. “You were bugged out something awful.”

“Bugged out! What is this, 1996?”

“Yes,” Archie said flatly. “You spaced out so hard that you turned back time. Everyone here is wearing flannel and enjoying the tunes of this new band, Garbage.”

“You’re about as funny as a cry for help,” Jughead said with a smirk. “And don’t disrespect Garbage. I seem to recall a Shirley Manson poster taped over your bed when you were twelve.”

Archie shrugged. “Sue me for waking up with morning wood and needing a strong woman to beat it to.”

Jughead grimaced again. “Why’d I get us onto this topic of conversation?”

“Because you’re avoiding the other. Namely why you—that is to say you yourself, Jughead Jones—were staring into space for a solid fifteen minutes.”

To Archie’s complete surprise, Jughead smiled like a child who’d properly used a simile. His normally pale cheeks turned pink as a rose, and he looked away from Archie. A sound incongruous to the being of Jughead Jones issued from his throat.

Archie’s eyes went round as fried eggs.

“You...you giggled,” he said weakly. “Dude, do you want me to get Nurse Beazley?”

“Whatever,” Jughead still, with that air of utter delight. “It’s nothing important, alright? I was just thinking about, y’know, stuff.”

“Oh. Like...Betty stuff?”

“Not really.” Jughead poked idly at his brick-like French toast with a plastic fork, thusly demonstrating to Archie that, while he was now back on Earth, part of his thoughts still remained in this blissful ether.

“Okay, so who then? It might not be any of my business. But we did share a room at one point. Secrets are kinda out the window now, right?” After some of the things Archie and Jughead had seen, smelled and heard of the other during those brief few months when Jughead had shared Archie’s bedroom, it was a miracle they kept anything private. Archie’s dad had compared the scent of his son’s room to a frat house at the time—and it had been for very good reason, too.

“Well...it’s....it’s you.” Jughead’s smile widened.

Archie sat frozen for a moment. Jughead had been staring off into the void for a quarter of an hour thinking about...him? Suddenly some of those things they’d done around each other under closed quarters came back to haunt Archie with a vengeance. Yeah, they’d gotten dressed and undressed, seen each other with the odd accidental hard on—Jughead had even caught Archie going to the palm prom more times than he cared to admit. Had all of that eventually—

“Not like that,” Jughead said quickly. “I mean, like, I love you but not the way Kevin loves Moose.”

Not knowing whether to feel relieved or disappointed, Archie glanced two tables down. Kevin Keller and Moose were currently squished close together going over Moose’s algebra homework.

“Well shucks,” Archie said with an affected Old Hollywood accent. “That’s good to hear. And, y’know...I love you too.”

It was meant to be private. But several people within the vicinity heard Archie’s words as a lull in conversation rolled through the cafeteria at large. Ethel Muggs, sittinga few seats away, looked up from her sketchbook with a gasp of delight. Reggie Mantle chose that moment to walk behind them with an empty tray. He paused, looked from Archie to Jughead, and then seemed to decide something for himself. He nodded, muttered, “Bout time,” and walked away.And most unfortunately, Melody Valentine ceased tapping a rhythm with her chopsticks against an upturned thermos and grinned like a Cheshire pussycat. Archie rather thought that an idea for a new song about guy-love was working its way through her pretty little head.

“Whatever,” Archie said a little too loudly. “At least I have the balls to admit it to my friends.”

“My hero,” Jughead said, turning red as rosé wine. Once the cafeteria began to hum with chatter again, Jughead added, “I was thinking about the hot tub party, okay?”

Archie frowned. “Why?” To his recollection it had been something of a gong show—one that had resolved itself, yes, but he still hasn’t forgotten the sight of his girl and best friend kissing just to get even.

“Nevermind.” Jughead quickly returned to his cold hasbrowns. “Just something that Betty told me is all.”

Archie glowered at Jughead. Over his obstinate friend’s shoulder, he saw Cheryl Blossom shashay through the cafeteria doors as if making her entrance at New York Fashion Week. The cheerleaders had finished practise; Betty and Veronica would join their table any moment now.

“What’d she say?”

“I don’t know if I can tell you.”

“Jug, if I wanted to me kept in suspense I’d watch The Talented Mr. Ripley; now spill!”

Jughead sighed. Fate took that opportunity to conspire for Betty and Veronica to enter the cafeteria. Their bright, welcoming smiles were completely lost on the two boys, now staring intently at each other.

“Betty said that you and I are the only ones who haven’t kissed out of the four of us, okay!” Jughead hissed.

Archie’s jaw dropped. “What are you—

Still speaking as fast as if he were a guest star on Gilmore Girls, Jughead said, “You’ve kissed Betty, and so have I; you’ve kissed Veronica and now I have too. And Betty and Veronica have both kissed each other. Betty didn’t tell me when or where or what it was like, but she said that we’re the odd men out now.”

A thousand different reactions passed through Archie’s body like a procession of ghosts: shock, amusement...but they were nothing compared to the all too familiar stirring in his gut at the thought of Betty and Veronica kissing—although when he slowed the process down, he wasn’t uncertain that his pants weren’t getting tighter as a result of thinking about he and Jughead kissing either.

He watched as Betty and Veronica fought with the vending machine that would dispense their preferred post-practice protein bars. Images of the two of them kissing collided with fantasies of what Jughead’s lips would feel like and how he would taste on Archie’s tongue. He thought about that special scent that was pure Jughead Jones: coffee and skin and crisp soap. How would that scent overpower him if they were close enough to kiss?

Archie shifted in his seat. Jughead, thoroughly flushed, returned to his tepid breakfast. Betty and Veronica joined moments later, both glowing with the rush of a hard practice.

“I feel like I’ve been turned into a pretzel,” Veronica sighed. Her own perfume and nearness didn’t help Archie’s predicament in the least. He grinned at the soft kiss on the cheek she offered him, but otherwise said nothing. He still couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Jughead. 

“It’s a good thing Cheryl’s been through the ringer or I’d be a lot less understanding of this Eric von Stroheim thing she’s got going on,” said Betty.

“That bad, huh?” said Jughead. Upon which the three of them launched into a lengthy discussion of Silent Era filmmaking. Throughout the conversation, Archie stared into general space, his thoughts consumed with one thing and one thing only: the lips of one Jughead Jones.

His mental absence did not go unnoticed. He was aware that Veronica and Betty both tried to get his attention at various points—Jughead even kicked him under the table. That, however, only had the effect of making the heat in Archie’s groin go supernova.

“Archiekins?” Veronica asked. “Are you still with us?”

“Maybe he’s getting a fever,” Betty said concernedly.

“He does not have a fever,” Jughead ground out, his cheeks redder than ever.

Veronica pressed the back of her hand to Archie’s forehead. “He feels a little flushed.”

“No wonder,” Jughead muttered.

The morning bell rang. Most of the students in the cafeteria got to their feet like a conflagration of birds. Veronica, Betty, Jughead and Archie were among them, which was a miracle given the daze Archie had been under for minutes.

“Trig next,” Betty groaned as if it were asking too much of flesh and blood to calculate the square angle of a hypotenuse. “I can’t believe I have trig and advance physics back to back.”

Archie felt a rush of panic. They were leaving, going back to their plain old lives. How could that be when everything had been turned slightly off its axis? Borders between them had been blurred due to raging teenaged hormones and moments of one upsmanship. He couldn’t let there be a rift between the perfect shape that was the four of them; and in any case: he was Archie motherfucking Andrews. He couldn’t be tormented by a question of what could be, not when the beautiful resolution of Jughead Jones stood not two feet in front of him. He needed to take action lest opportunity be lost forever.

Archie tapped Jughead on the shoulder, interrupting a conversation he and Veronica had been having. He turned, seemingly having forgotten all about what had transpired back at the cafeteria table. At least until he saw the broad grin on Archie’s face.

Jughead actually gulped, but, Archie noticed, didn’t bother backing off.

Archie seized a fistful of Jughead’s jacket, and pulled him close. All laws of space and time disappeared in the interim between them not kissing. To wit, looking back, neither boy, nor the several dozen people who stopped and stared openly, could quite pinpoint the moment that their lips touched. But they did, and the second Archie felt the soft contact, he groaned. Jughead staggered, as if stunned by a shock of thunder. Archie’s strong body being the only thing preventing him from falling over, he stumbled forwards, pressed against a chest, among other things, as solid as steel.

The kiss bypassed being some experimental peck. Archie gasped; Jughead’s lips parted. Archie felt the taste of his friend, and felt an overwhelming desire to explore that sweet warmth further. Blood rushed in his ears and chest and through the raging stiffness in his jeans. 

And then, slowly, as if both were trying to savor something that would likely never happen again, they broke apart. Jughead looked slightly drunk, and he swayed where he stood. Archie’s heart thundered against his ribs. He knew people—Betty and Veronica chief among them—were staring, but he didn’t give much of a damn. Let them talk. Kissing Jughead was the least of the gossip at Riverdale High—or the town at large—that could damage him.

Jughead brushed his thumb over his swollen lips. Then his tongue lapped any remaining trace of Archie’s kiss into his mouth like the last sumptuous piece of something sweet.

He chuckled softly, then glanced to the utterly gobsmacked Betty and Veronica. “Guess that makes it fair, huh?” he said.

Betty seemed incapable of speech, and Veronica looked as if she were about to disappear to the nearest locker room for a cold shower. 

Archie only laughed, and flung an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder. “Fair and square, I’d say.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
